


At the Barricades

by thedevilchicken



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Guys Made Them Do It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 17:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19404658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Valjean, Marius and Cosette are captured by soldiers by the barricade, when very near all others are already dead. When the soldiers wish see Cosette defiled before moving on, Marius offers himself instead.





	At the Barricades

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Apathy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apathy/gifts).



Through the years that have passed since his first incarceration, he has called himself by many names. 

He has convinced himself to say them even privately and internally, when he thinks about himself, so that he might preserve this freshest identity and thus protect Cosette. _Madeleine_ , he has said. _Fauchelevent_. _Leblanc_. But now, in this moment, he feels he must call back on Jean Valjean. It will not ease his conscience nor alleviate the evil of the thing he is compelled to do, but to attribute it to Jean Valjean seems just. 

There is a pistol pointed at him. This would be of no particular concern to him - he would rather die than play the part they have ascribed him in this - but another such weapon is trained on Marius. That _does_ concern him; it would be one thing to choose his own death but another thing entirely to choose it for them both, and in doing so also choose to leave their dear Cosette alone. But still, the point remains: he does not wish to do this. 

He has his manhood pushed up to the root inside the man his daughter wishes she might marry, while the soldiers jeer around them. He would like to tear out of him the knowledge of precisely how that feels, of how Marius' channel clenches desperately about him, the flutter of muscle and the tightness of the fit, the sinful heat of him that no man has any business knowing, let alone this man. And Marius moves - oh, how he _moves_ \- pushing back to meet each thrust with his head pillowed down against his forearms so that no one there might see his face. It doesn't matter: everyone who matters to him already knows who he is, and those who don't simply do not care. 

His hands grip Marius' bare hips and he tells himself he mustn't hurt him, but he regrets that the thought exists as a temptation to him. Marius is not small but in Valjean's still large and powerful hands he feels very nearly delicate. He feels as though he might crush him, or at the very least he might bruise him, and perhaps he might take him with such force that Cosette would see that she could never love him. But he knows, of course, that Marius Pontmercy deserves his respect. If not for his intervention here, Valjean would be responsible for something far more terrible; the soldiers would have had him have Cosette instead, or else should he have proved unable to, they would both lie dead. 

After they were caught, he watched the soldiers tear an old straw mattress from the ruins of the barricade and throw it to the ground. They pushed him down on top of it, shoving him until he stumbled and fell, and the mattress received him with a cloud of fetid dust. He looked up at Cosette from his hands and knees. She wasn't sobbing, but her eyes and cheeks were wet. 

"Please, take me instead!" said Marius, and all eyes turned to him, Valjean's included. 

"I'm afraid my men are quite set upon this man as the perpetrator," the commander replied. 

"Then in place of her," Marius said. He set his jaw. He lifted his chin. "Take me in place of her." 

The commander considered this briefly, evidently weighing up his options, then he gave a curt nod. Valjean understood; the officer was not necessarily a bad man but a very weak leader, and while he could not sway his headstrong men on the point of _someone's_ public violation, it was by no means required that it be Cosette's. The humiliation of Marius Pontmercy may have even been their preference, given his obvious societal rank. Marius is young, and pretty, and clearly does not face a lack of funding in his life. Valjean understands their jealousy, as he would have felt it keenly once himself.

"Do it," the soldier said, as Marius walked tensely to the mattress. Valjean pushed up onto his knees, sitting back on his heels, and Marius joined him there, kneeling tentatively so that they were face to face. "Do it," the soldier repeated, and he waved the gun at Marius. "Do it or I'll shoot him." He smiled, all missing teeth and malice. He shifted his aim and Cosette's eyes widened. "Do it or I'll shoot _her_."

Except when Valjean fumbled at his belt, when he pushed down his trousers, his manhood hung there limply. He understood what he was obliged to do but when he wrapped one hand around himself and stroked, he found himself unable to respond. The soldier stepped in behind Cosette, wrapped one arm around her waist, and pressed his pistol to her temple. Valjean was utterly convinced that this man meant to do her the most irrevocable harm.

"Stand up," Marius said, his alarm exceedingly clear, as much so as Valjean's dismay or Cosette's captor's intent. "Stand up, I urge you." And so he did so; he pulled himself up tall before him and Marius reached out to take Valjean's limp length in one smooth hand as he remained there on his knees. He stroked him, slowly, lightly, and then leaned in. Valjean watched him lick the tip of him, once, twice, felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue against his skin, and to his shame felt his manhood start to thicken. Marius sealed his lips around the head and teased at the tip with the tip of his tongue and as Valjean watched him, Marius looked up and met his gaze, all flushed cheeks and reddened lips. Valjean felt sick. He felt thrilled. His cock was just as hard as he had ever felt it. 

"Don't you come in his mouth," another soldier warned him.

"Yeah, you come in his mouth and maybe we'll all take a turn." 

"Stick it in him. Go on. Some of us have got places to be." 

So, to his shame, he did exactly that. Marius pulled back and he unbuckled his belt and once he had pushed his trousers down about his knees and turned around and settled down, Valjean knew that he had no choice left at all. He could not have killed the soldiers there before they would have killed Cosette and so he spat into his hand, and he parted Marius' cheeks, and he guided the thick tip of his shameful erection to Marius' exposed rim. He pushed into him, slowly, faltering as the soldiers laughed. Now, there is no part of Valjean's aching length that is not bounded by this so forbidden part of him. 

So now, he has him. He thrusts inside him, deeply, torn between the urge to take him hard and fast or slow and kind. He does not truly wish to hurt him, for all his sadness at the thought that he might lose Cosette to him. It is more than enough that all his friends are dead, and that the woman he claims to love is there, that she is watching. And so he eases him up until his back rests flush against his chest, and he reaches past his hip to take his manhood in his hand. 

"Close your eyes, sir," Valjean says, kneeling there with his mouth tucked up beside Marius' ear, and then he begins to stroke. He is inexperienced, yes, and he supposes it must show, but Marius shifts with him in spite of that. Marius gasps, reaching back to grip at Valjean's thighs as he shifts his hips to push into his hand. At the end of each thrust, he pushes back against him, forcing Valjean's length back in deep, and the soldiers jeer: _look at him, he likes it!_ Honestly, it very nearly feels exactly like he does.

Valjean spills his seed inside him, with a low groan and a spasm of his hips, and he quickly starts to soften. He removes himself, replaces his manhood with the length of two thick fingers, easier now that his come can slick his hole, and Marius fairly rides his hand as Valjean strokes him. He spills over Valjean's hand, and against the mattress, and his belly and the ground. But half the soldiers have already lost all interest and once they are both done, when they are kneeling there together, breathing deep, the lot of them begin to wander off. The commander gives Valjean a tight and rueful smile. Valjean understands he did not want this any more than they did. 

Then they are alone, surrounded by their dead as Cosette weeps into her gloved hands. 

"Go to her," Valjean says. He removes his fingers from Marius' come-slicked hole and Marius cannot avert a whimper at it. "Take her away from here. She should not be here. She will forget, and so shall you." 

It takes but a moment for Marius to rearrange his clothing to be neat once more, as if nothing meaningful had happened here at all. He stands a moment later and Cosette lets him lead her, and as they leave she does not look back again. Marius does. He nods; Valjean returns it. Together, they have saved not only their lives but hers. 

He watches them leave, from his knees on the mattress. And he knows he will never see his dear Cosette again. 

She will not forget this, no matter what he said. None of them will forget this, least of all Jean Valjean.


End file.
